


Stories we build over lies and memories

by MarinaScarlet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Hotel Dusk au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarinaScarlet/pseuds/MarinaScarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shot in the dark. A long lost body. A mute. A stolen manuscript. A famous painting. A theft. Years of lies - and a hotel. The truths will be revealed, and even the dead will have voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stories we build over lies and memories

**Author's Note:**

> I have been planning this for all summer long and yesterday I decided it was time to post it. It's an AU loosely based on Hotel Dusk, one of my favourite videogames. I will try to update regularly.
> 
> In this first chapter there is a slight mention of rape; in the next ones there will be allusions to murder, theft and abuse. It kept it in teen audiences but the rating might be updated as this keeps on going.
> 
> If you have any questions, feel free to direct them to me here: http://mylittlebelles-writes.tumblr.com/ask

**_28 th December 1968_ **

_RING RING RING_

“Baley here.”

 “Hey, Gold Junior.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I got bad bad news. It’s about your father. He’s a traitor.”

“What!?”

 

“Papa! Put the gun down, for God’s Sake!”

 

“I don’t want to shoot you, put that fucking gun down and I promise we will solve this!”

 

“Don’t dare to do that! Don’t dare to threaten me! DON’T DARE TO POINT ME WITH THAT GUN!”

_BANG_

“Fucking idiot! PAPA! PAPA!”

 

**_28 th December 1978_ **

I was driving into Maine’s winter rain trying to adjust the radio to find something decent when my pager started to beep. It was from work, of course. “Fuck you, Robert”, I thought while I looked for a gas station in which I could make a phone call. Dammit, I was lost in the middle of nowhere in that old Cadillac and I only wanted to get home to pour myself a glass of bourbon and maybe get drunk until I fall asleep in my sofa. But there was still a long way to Boston; the trip back home was going to be longer than I expected. The nearest town was 250 km away from my current position, more or less, and I was starting to think to spend the night there. I hated to drive into the rain, and at night. That wasn’t for me. My dad would have made the trip; he loved driving at night. But I wasn’t made for those things; I wasn’t like him at all.

I was returning to Boston after a work in a small town in Canada, near the frontier. I didn’t remember the name, and the job had been easy. I am a door to door salesman, but I am also a procurer of objects hard to find. Red Crown is just only a cover of what Robert really does. He pays me a good amount of money with each work well done so I don’t complain so much about my other job. The only thing that bothers me is that he is constantly using Emma to contact me.

We’ve never spoken face to face. Not even when he contacted me for the first time. He’s the most mysterious man I’ve ever met.

Someday I will find the wanting to discover who he really was.

I saw a shiny neon sign on the road and I stopped, placing my car in a small parking lot near the diner. After all, I wasn’t that unlucky. I still had gas to keep on going with my trip – in that road should be at least another gas station, just in case. I got down from the car with my suitcase in my right hand and I entered the restaurant of the gas station. It was small, almost empty and it seemed even comfortable; the smell of freshly made coffee and homemade food made me twitch my lips. It was around 5 pm and I hadn’t eaten anything since I started to drive back to Boston. I sat on one of the chairs in the bar and I ordered a cup of coffee. I gave a look at the menu and I ordered some pancakes with bacon and scrambled eggs. I was really hungry.

“Where is the public phone booth?”

“At the end of the bar, turning left. Got change?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I took again my suitcase and I walked to where the phone was. I took some cents from my pocket and I put them into the phone. I dialed the number that Emma gave me by the phone in the morning and I waited.

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

 She wasn’t at the office because she had to make something for Robert. That fucking lazy ass of my boss didn’t know how to make things by himself, and Emma and I have to be all day messing around with his stupid requests.

“Emma Swan here.”

“Hey, Emma, it’s me.”

“Hello, Neal! How is your trip going?”

“It’s raining, it’s dark and I only want to get home to have some bourbon.”

“Well, things could be worse, I suppose.”

“Of course.” I sighed. “What you wanted to tell me?”

“Robert has a new job for you.”

“Oh dear Jesus Christ.” I rolled my eyes and I bit my lips to avoid swearing. “Please tell me that it’s in Boston.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t _.”_

“At least tell me that it’s **_on my way_** to Boston.”

“You’ve been lucky. You have to find two things in a hotel called Storyteller. It’s a road hotel 12 km away of a town called Storybrooke.”

“I was thinking into spending the night in that town but if it’s a hotel near… Well, it’ll come in handy.”

“I am already in the hotel.”

“What are you doing there?” Sending Emma there was a low kick, you bastard. “Why aren’t you at the office?”

“Robert wanted me here to help you. It seems that the objects are a bit difficult to find. He also sent you a parcel with the clients’ list and some new products. You should arrive before the parcel does.”

“Okay, okay…” I snorted. “Well. I am now at a gas station like 250 km away from Storybrooke. I will find the hotel easily, right?”

“Aham. I will wait for you in my room. I am in two-one-three.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there in… Half an hour I guess. See you there.”

“Be careful, Neal.”

“You know I always I am.”

I put down the telephone and I went back to my place. A delicious plate of 4 pancakes with well fried bacon and two scrambled eggs was waiting for me. The waitress, a young brunette with dark eyes and an incredible smiled, served me a steaming cup of black coffee. The smell of the food made me smile and I ate content and quite fast; the faster I got to the hotel, the sooner I would get my job done and I could return home.

“Was everything fine?”

“Yes, it was delicious. How much is it?”

“5’25 dollars, sir.”

I handed the waitress six dollars and I told her to keep the change. She served everything perfectly, and the food tasted as good as it smelled, so that was a very well earned tip – I hadn’t tasted in years a food as good as this one. If this place wasn’t too far from Boston, I am sure I would go here every day.

My good mood suddenly disappeared when I faced again the rain. I sworn in a low voice and I ran to my car. I placed the suitcase in the copilot seat and I started the car again. I left the gas station with a deep roar of my Cadillac and I started to make my way to the Storyteller hotel.

I drove fast, despite of the rain, in complete silence, only surrounded by my thoughts. I had a strange feeling; something was telling me that maybe my stay in the hotel was going to give me some answers about my father.

On my way, I saw the figure of a woman on her mid twenties, with brown hair, dressed with a white dress and walking under the rain. She had two blue eyes that shined like sapphires in the dark. A beauty, indeed, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I turned my face and when I looked back when the girl was supposed to be, she wasn’t there. “The lack of bourbon is making me have hallucinations”, I thought as I shook my head and focused again on the road.

I arrived to the hotel in forty minutes. A neon sign welcomed me again. I parked near the entrance and I took my suitcase. It was going to be a long night.

I ran to the door of the hotel and I opened it very quickly, almost slamming them, and I walked towards the reception desk. The hotel was nice, a bit old, but nice. The walls were made of old wood, and there were some drawings of fairy tale characters on the walls. I rolled my eyes and I leaned over the desk, waiting if somebody was going to appear.

I waited for five minutes, and seeing that no one was going to come, I rang the bell on the desk five times. The voice of a woman shouting welcomed me.

“Ruby Lucas! Why aren’t yo-“

I arched an eyebrow and I tried to smile to the woman that appeared. Around 65 years old, grey hair, well built (very well built) and wearing a pair of spectacles – she was from old school, definitely. She might have seen the two world wars, and she might have even taken part in the construction of war airplanes when she was younger – her hands were the ones of a person who had spend part of her life working in a factory or something. She reminded me a bit of the propaganda posters of the Second World War my mother showed me when I was young: very strong and determined women. I am sure some of them could have fought better than some of our soldiers.

“Hey.”

“Oh, I am so sorry! I thought you were my niece.” She adjusted the lenses and shook my hand. “I am Angela Lucas and I am the owner of Storyteller hotel.”  

“I’d like to have a room for tonight, please.”

“Sure. Please fill the registration form. And please don’t take away the pen! It’s the only one I got.”

“Okay…”

Surprised, I arched an eyebrow and I took the pen that the woman left on the desk; I filled quickly the form. I was really used to fill registration forms, as I spend most of my nights in very cheap and deadly hotels lost in the most hidden places in the United States. I placed my signature at the end of the paper and I handed it to the woman.

“Oh, Neal Cassady.”

“Yeah. Is there any problem?”

“No, it’s just that I had another guest with the same name six months ago.”

What? Another guest named Neal Cassady was here six months ago? Who was playing to be me?

“Do you remember his physical appearance?” I asked the woman urgently. “Brown and gray hair, in a well tailored suit. Brown eyes…”

“No, I am very sorry. I don’t remember any man with such appearance.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She turned to the key desk and took one of them: the hotel was almost full. Why someone would stay in a hotel like that, lost in the middle of nowhere? Not everybody was on their way to Boston, I suppose.

“Your room is two-one-five. Go upstairs, turn right and at the end of the corridor, at left, you will find it.”

“Thank you.” I took the key from her hands.

“Dinner is included on the price of the room. It starts at 6 pm and ends at 9 pm.”

“Oh, I forgot, how much is the room?”

“40 dollars.”

I checked my wallet and I only got 25 dollars. “May I pay you later? I only got 25 dollars here now; I got the rest on my suitcase.”

“Okay, but pay before 6 pm, please.”

“Gotcha.”

“Enjoy your stay.”

“Thanks.”

I took my suitcase and I walked towards the hall and the stairs. Everything was very quiet; I only heard a door opening and close and the fan of the vending machine. I spotted the restaurant; it was on near the stairs, crossing a hallway. I started to walk up the stairs when I saw a little girl playing in the middle of them, blocking the way. She was making a puzzle.

“Hey.”

“Uh?” She turned her face to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“Going to my room, maybe? I am staying here tonight.”

“Me too.” She looked back to the puzzle, avoiding my gaze.

She was firmly glued to the stairs, and she didn’t want to move. I had to do something to go to the upper part. Definitely, that evening, Lord was testing me.

“What’s your name, little girl?”

“My father says I can’t tell my name to strangers!”

I closed my eyes and I tried to stay calmed; she was only a child.

“My name’s Neal Cassady. Better?”

“Aha.” She nodded. “My name’s Grace.”

“Well, Grace, would you let me pass? I am a bit in a hurry.”

“No! I am doing this puzzle and I have to finish it!” She crossed her arms and sat again. “But it’s difficult and I can’t do it…”

“What if I help you? Would you let me go upstairs?”

“ ** _Yes!_** ”

I sighed and I sat on the stairs, and I look at the pieces of the game. I start to put them together, it had passed some time since I had made my last puzzle, but that one was quite easy to do. It was of a cartoon I saw when I was little; “Pinky Bunny” was a huge part of my childhood. I finished it within two minutes.

“Here.”

“I thought you were going to help me! You did everything by yourself!” Grace threw the puzzle into the stairs, took all the pieces and ran upstairs.

“Hey, wait!” I sighed and I started to walk to the next floor when I saw one of the puzzle pieces on the floor. It was turned to the other side and it had something written on it. “Now I will have to give this her back… Damn children.”

I saw the two sides of the hall and I turned left. I saw first Emma’s room, so I decided to tell her I was there already. She was going to give me also the client list and also the list of the objects. I knocked softly the door, and I heard footsteps on the other side. She opened the door quickly.

“Miss Swan…”

“Oh, look, we got a Cassidy here.” She smiled, crossing her arms. “How was your trip?”

“I need bourbon. I saw something on the road, a girl. I turned my head and when I looked back to where the girl was supposed to be, she wasn’t there.”

“It must have been the rain.” She laughed and invited me to enter. “Haven’t you gotten into your room yet?”

“Nope. I found a little girl on the stairs and she challenged me to do a puzzle or something like that and well, we didn’t understand each other very well and she ended throwing the damn thing into the floor and I still got a piece of it.”

“Sounds interesting.” It was obvious she was laughing at me. “Here you are. The objects you have to find.” She handed me a sheets of paper; it was white with handwritten things.

 “A little red box and a magazine of two years ago with Audrey Hepburn on the cover? Who has asked to find this?” I said taking from her hands the paper she had given me.

“I don’t know.” She sat on the bed again. “You should have a shower and relax a bit, you look really awful.”

“Yeah, I know. This has been a really long day.” I started to walk towards the door of her bedroom. “I will pick you up for dinner. Six thirty is okay?”

“I will be waiting for you. And don’t be late!”

“I will be as punctual as Big Ben.” I said closing the door softly.

I reached the door of my room and I opened it, walking into it quite quickly and almost slamming it. I placed my suitcase on the table and I threw my old jacket on the bed. I loosened the knot of my tie and I sat on the edge of the table. My eyes were closing, and everything seemed heavier. I let my back fall over the sheets. Finally it was time to relax.

I was about to fall asleep when a three knocks on my door woke me up.

“Who is it?” I shouted from my position.

“Parcel for Neal Cassady!”

I grunted. I woke up and I walked towards the door, opening it with anger.

“Hey! Your parcel is the one of the bottom!” A feminine voice greeted me. It was younger than the one the owner of the hotel had. “Can you take it?”

“I suppose.”

I pulled the parcel but both things fell to the floor, and I finally managed to see the face of the person who was speaking to me.

“Wolfie!?”

“Dammit, Cassady, low your voice!” She pushed me into the room with the parcels and closed the door. “What the fuck are you doing here!?”

“No. What the **_fuck_** are you doing here?”

“Hey, I asked first!”

“And I asked second! I thought you still were in New York!”

“Well, I decided to give a try and get back to the protection of my Granny.” It was obvious she didn’t lose the way she acted in the streets when she performed her robs.

“Your grandmother is the owner of the hotel? Jesus Christ…”

“Any problems?” She put her arms on jars and arched an eyebrow.

“No, of course not! This was the last place in which I expected to find you.” I sat on the bed again, trying to avoid making more gestures. “It has been a long time, right?”

“Yes. Three years have passed since the last time you caught me.” She smiled. She still got that charm. “And then, one day, you disappeared. What happened?” She arched her eyebrows, trying to provoke me to tell her what happened.

“Not the time, not the place. It’s such a long story.”

“Oh, come on, Neal!”

“Really, Wolfie, I’m not feeling like talking about it right now. Maybe later, with a bottle of bourbon or something.” I stood up. “I need to rest too, so give me my parcel and finish the delivering.”

“Don’t command me, you’re not my boss!”

“You’re still the lazy ass I used to know.” I smirked. She pick up the two boxes and gave one to me. “Thank you.”

“See you later, then?”

“Of course.”

She exited the room and closed the door behind her. It seemed past was still following me everywhere I went.

I picked up the parcel and I placed it on my bed. It was much lighter than I thought it was; if there were new products, it should be a bit heavy. I opened it and I saw that the box only contained an old notebook. I took it and I looked at what was written on the cover: “Departures”. The name rang a bell, but I couldn’t remember the name of the author. As far as I knew, it had been a hit when it was released. I hadn’t read it; the lack of time and interest were the main reasons.

I decided to go to the reception to tell about the incident, but if I was going to go there, I should bring the money to pay Angela. I walked towards the table to open my suitcase, and after three failed tries, it opened. It was very old, and the key was rusty; it wouldn’t surprise me if it broke soon.

I took the money I got; 70 dollars. I smiled at the handful of green paper I got in my hands and sighed. I put the money on my wallet and I gave a look at the content of the suitcase: lots of unpaid bills that I should send to Robert, a map of Los Angeles, today’s newspaper, a clean shirt and tie, a pair of socks, my little bottle of bourbon and a pencil. If someone gave a look at this, they would think of me as a madman. In fact I was one; who could ever wanted to work as a door to door salesman?

I closed it and I went to the reception. The hall of the first floor was completely empty; I didn’t hear anything on any of the rooms. Too much silence for a road hotel. As I saw early, the hotel was almost full, so I didn’t understand the lack of noise. At least I was expecting some noise coming from the room where the little girl I saw on the stairs, but not a single breath or door opening. That was quite strange.

I went downstairs and I saw that there were two people in the reception. There was a man, tall, with brown hair, a bit drunk, and without good manners, talking with the owner.

“I want the suite, dammit!”

“I am sorry, but as I told you, the suite has been already occupied by another guest.”

“Change his room, then! I am willing to pay more!”

“No. I am sorry but I won’t change that man of room just because you want.”

“Fucking hotel.”

“If you don’t like this, you’re free to leave.”

The man grunted and finally accepted to have a normal room. He signed the form and with the key on hand, he walked towards me.

“Name’s Keith, and you’d better not mess with me, got it?”

I rolled my eyes and I walked through the desk.  He grunted and murmured something I couldn’t hear. I gained another enemy. How typical of me. Neal Cassady, always making friends everywhere he goes.

“Keith” smelled of cheap alcohol, and he was making me vomit; if I would have stayed by his side one more second, I would have ended on the floor, completely poisoned.

“What about you, girl?” Angela asked.

What? There was another person on the hall? I haven’t seen her. That man should have hid her.

“Hey, she comes with me.” Keith said, turning back to the desk. “I brought her here, so she stays with me.” He looked at her with dirty eyes and with a pervert smile on his face. If that girl went with him to his room, she was going to end bruised, battered and raped until her last breath. And that was something I couldn’t stand.

“You might like to ask her if she really wants to stay with you.” I interrupted, walking towards the counter.

“What the fuck are you saying?” He turned to me, very angry, decided to punch me in the face.  

“Come on, she’s a grown up lady, I’m pretty sure she can speak her mi-“And then I saw her.

The same girl I saw on the road. Same dress, same hair, and same blue eyes: she wasn’t a hallucination; she was real as the air I breathed. She was covered with a blanket to dry her, and her face was really sad. Her cheeks were red, as well as her eyes. She must have been crying. If that bastard had touched her…

“Speak her mind?” Keith laughed. “She can’t speak.”

A mute girl? Things were getting too mysterious and interesting.

“If she can’t speak, how is she going to tell what she wants?”

“Shut up!” Angela left the counter and looked at all of us. “I bet she can write.” She looked at the girl. “Can you write?” She nodded. “Good.” Angela handed her a notebook and her pen. “You will communicate with that, okay?” She nodded again, smiling a bit. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to go with Keith?”

She opened the notebook on the first page and start writing in it. She showed us what she wrote.

“No. I am afraid of him. I want to be alone.”

“You heard her.”

“Come on! I will take care of you!”

“No you won’t.” The girl’s hands were shaking, and Angela came to soothe her. “You’d better get out of the reception before I expel you from the hotel.”

“Okay, calm down, Granny…”

He disappeared into the main hall and the stairs leading to the first floor. The girl wrote quickly on the notebook “Thank you”, and she finally smiled.

“Mr. Cassady…”

“Tell me.”

“Would you mind take care of this girl? I have lots of things to do, and so my niece…”

“I am not very used bu-“

“I knew you would accept! That’s wonderful! I will give you the girl’s room key.” She handed me another; this time it had the number 219 written on it, and a rose. “The room’s name’s Belle. I named it after the Beauty and the Beast tale.”

Suddenly, the girl reacted and pointed at the name written in the key, and then she pointed to herself. I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me.

“I think she is trying to tell us her name.” Angela said before getting again into the office.

“Your name’s Belle?”

She nodded again, and she took my hand. Angela wasn’t there, and both of us were left alone in the reception. I couldn’t do anything else but take care of her, and Emma would help me. When she said the search of the objects was going to be complicated, I didn’t imagine that as the main problem.

We walked in silence until we reached her door, but she didn’t want to enter the room. It looked like she was afraid.

“The room is okay, there is plenty of light… But I think you are afraid of being alone, right?”

She nodded and squeezed hardly my hand. Tears were in the verge of her eyes and I didn’t know what I could do to help her. She took the notebook and the pen and started to write quickly.

“I am afraid of darkness. I spent too much time locked away in a horrible place. And I am afraid of being alone. I want to have somebody by my side.”

“Well… I’m not sure if I’m the best company for you, girl…”

“You are.”

“Why you say that? We met five minutes ago!”

“You saved me from that man called Keith.”

“That’s nothing, really.”

“You are good company, for real. You are the kind of people I’d like to be with.”

“Thank you, I guess…” I scratched the back of my neck and I looked at her again. “You can sleep in my room. I don’t mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kasabian will take a BIG part in the fic, as it's such a great inspiration to write Neal with this and the upcoming chapters. They will be filled with tension and also drama. 
> 
> Mostly the playlist for this chapter was Underdog of Kasabian, Hotel California of The Eagles and Out on the road of Norah Jones.


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